This Lord is Very Scientific-Chapter 601 - 536 Five-Colored Melting Furnace Meditation Method

Thatcher could foresee a new star in the gladiatorial arena!

Originally, she just came to see how the Elephantman Tribe Race performed in her leisure time, but unexpectedly discovered a Human Race with a new fighting style.

Yes, a new type of gladiatorial fighting style!

This style relies solely on the power of fists and feet, yet possesses the ability to achieve victory despite the odds!

If that frail Human Race body could topple an Elephantman Tribe Race, then what if a star-level powerhouse used it? Could they not face a legend?

Of course, Thatcher knew such a thing was unrealistic, but it still surprised her.

It wasn't just her; the novice arena initially only had a dozen people, and now all of them stood up at once.

Below, the Elephantman, Ah Tai, knocked himself out with an uppercut.

"It seems that Ah Tai, who came to the arena to fulfill his coming-of-age ceremony, has declared his first defeat, but among our newcomers, an extraordinary gladiator has emerged, and he is — Sparta!"

The host's voice echoed, and the dozen spectators stood up, clapping and cheering.

Sparta!

Sparta defeated the underage Elephantman from the Elephantman Tribe!

At this moment, the victorious Sparta was extremely calm and merely walked out.

Thatcher hurriedly chased after him.

She wore the now trendy tight-fitting long skirt, with black lace skirts tightly wrapping her body, her jog was extremely enchanting.

But those dozen spectators had no time to pay attention to Thatcher, and instead closely focused on the Human Race gladiator named "Sparta."

They too wanted to pursue such potential stocks!

...

However, in the end, they failed.

Not even the fastest runner saw Sparta.

Because Sparta seemed to be a professional, immediately starting the second match without resting.

So they, along with Thatcher, hurried to the next arena.

The arena's matching rules were such that individuals with similar or identical winning streaks faced off, and individuals with similar or identical win rates faced off.

Therefore, many wins after the first match aren't much, winning three matches is considered lucky, but winning five matches or more consecutively becomes very difficult.

And these spectators, including Thatcher, believed that Sparta had the potential for a ten-win streak, if not today, then on some day in the future!

This was only the second match. These spectators encountered this opportunity and naturally wanted to witness it from the beginning, which was one of the reasons they came to the novice arena!

The thirty-plus spectators originally present saw the others rushing in and immediately understood, so they each looked towards the arena below.

"Lady Thatcher, are you here to find a new manservant?"

As Lady Thatcher arrived, a woman in a pink dress, holding two muscular men, stood up.

This woman was alluring, with a thick tail behind her, wrapped in pink silk, and a servant specifically lifting her tail behind her.

"Pink Street Queen? Heh, how was Stuart? I forgot to mention to you last time, although he's a Minotaur, with him it's over as soon as it starts." Thatcher's jog turned into a gait that exuded a noble's proud and reserved demeanor.

Before her Viscount husband died, she was rightfully a Marchioness… one of them.

She naturally had a noble's arrogance.

"Stuart?" The woman known as the Pink Street Queen squinted her eyes; this name referred to the strong Minotaur she had taken from Thatcher.

Unfortunately, that Minotaur was a novice who couldn't be of much use.

"Well, it just so happens, Stuart's Minotaur tongue is quite thick and long." The Pink Street Queen laughed lightly.

"Oh? Haha, you Dragon-people supposedly have scales there too, don't you? Aren't you afraid of getting scratched? Haha…" Lady Thatcher smiled slightly and continued her retort.

While the two confronted each other, below in the arena, the two gladiators entered.

One was the Human Race gladiator "Sparta" they just saw.

The other was a male nymph.

The male nymph was muscular, with sharply defined muscles on his upper body, yet his skin was fair and smooth, full of elasticity.

"It seems this nymph is your new target… tsk tsk, the taste of nymphs, I haven't tried that many times." The Pink Street Queen's eyes brightened as she looked at the nymph below, especially at the nymph's body.

"Heh." Thatcher felt parched but kept her focus on Sparta.

Sparta was her prey!

At this moment, even as the host announced the start, the two below began to fight.

Although the male nymph's muscular body and delicate skin caught attention, he roared and transformed into a large black wolf.

The Pink Street Queen looked at the rear end of the giant wolf, her eyes brightening again: "Not bad."

Then she glanced at Thatcher and said, "He's mine."

Thatcher ignored her and stared intently at "Sparta," anticipating the scene from before.

Indeed!

The nymph-turned-giant wolf leaped at Sparta, but Sparta simply struck a strange pose, and with a mere brush, pull, and push, made the giant wolf's head crash to the ground.

Sparta looked unfazed, his face remained unchanged, almost without exerting any effort, as if casually swatting away a fly.

No grand gestures, no fierce exchanges, no brutal punches.

Sparta simply seemed to have brushed the mane of a wild horse, and the nymph-turned-giant wolf lay there slumbering.

Seeing this, the audience burst out with astonished cries.

"By the lava! What was that?"

"I swear, there's nothing wrong with my eyes!"

"So powerful! This is a different kind of power!"

The audience exclaimed, which vexed the dizzy nymph-giant wolf from its earlier clash.

He shook his head twice, then stood up on the ground, opening his blood-filled mouth and lunged again.

"Roar!!!"

Furious to the extreme, he aimed his claws at Sparta's throat, as if to tear him apart the next instant.

The arena wasn't a place without deaths; it was precisely life-threatening situations that made it real.

Yet Sparta wasn't intimidated, his eyes calmly observing the giant wolf's claws, both hands shot out in an instant, gripping one of the giant wolf's arms, followed by a quick twist of his waist, executing a shoulder throw.

"Boom!!"

The body of the nymph-turned-giant wolf slammed into the ground and couldn't rise for a moment.

Afterward, Sparta slowly exhaled, the breath contained a unique aura, and within his eyes, the five-colored light flashed by.

...

In the stands, the Pink Street Queen naturally realized who Thatcher was targeting.

But seeing the breath from Sparta's mouth, her pupils shook.

"That is… the Five-Colored Furnace!"